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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27490840">Our First Time</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanacchi/pseuds/kanacchi'>kanacchi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCT (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Comedy, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:27:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,439</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27490840</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanacchi/pseuds/kanacchi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark Lee X Reader, ft. Johnny | Smut, Fluff | 4.6k | College AU</p><p>Considering your boyfriend never dares to take the initiative to go further than your usual make-out sessions, you have to do the part to actually be in charge of the relationship.</p><p>Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, Mark Lee losing his virginity while being extremely awkward and utterly cute about it, oral sex, fingering</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mark Lee (NCT) &amp; Reader, Mark Lee (NCT)/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>152</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
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</div><p>“Remember the suit you wore when we went to your aunt’s wedding?”</p><p>Your boyfriend, who has been together with you for almost a year by now, hums in response, not really giving you any glance as he’s busy tapping his pen to his lips, thinking about writing the next lyric for the song he’s composing. Mark Lee has his chest pressed against his acoustic guitar, his hair’s a bit messy and slightly parted to the side, showing his forehead. Considering how close he’s sitting on the floor next to you, you can tell how half of the collar of his washed-out denim jacket stands up, brushing against the end of his dark hair.</p><p>“Yeah, what about it?” He continues asking when he notices that you’re waiting for a proper answer. He slips his guitar pick back between his fingers and tries a few chords to match his lyrics.</p><p>“I just dreamt about you fucking me from behind while wearing that suit.”</p><p>Mark strums his guitar too hard out of shock, making his instrument flies away from his lap, hitting the marbled floor with a sudden loud noise.</p><p>
  <em>“What?”</em>
</p><p>Still having your head pressed against the table with your right cheek glued to your abandoned college papers, you flatly repeat, “I dreamt about you fucking—”</p><p>Mark stands up so fast, you can tell he’s having a slight headache because of it. “No. <em>No. </em>I <em>heard </em>what you said, I just—” It’s a fact that Mark blushes rather easily, but he has never blushed <em>this </em>hard before. “What—why—telling me so suddenly like this—you’re—”</p><p>“Mark, you’re rambling.”</p><p>“Whyare <em>you</em> so calmabout it?!” He walks away to pick up his guitar, unconsciously stomping a little bit like a fuming child as he does so. “And why are you lazing around like that? Didn’t you have some assignments to do?”</p><p>You finally straighten yourself up, looking at the textbooks you need to read and suddenly feeling like you’re dyslexic from birth. “I dozed off a bit, I guess. I just woke up from that dream where—”</p><p>“OKAAAAYYYYY!” Mark scrambles back to your side, crossing his legs and shushing you down by covering your head with your hood until you can barely see anything. The grey hoodie you’re wearing—<em>his hoodie</em>, actually—is already oversized when Mark is wearing it, so it’s basically a dress when <em>you’re </em>wearing it and the hood is big enough to cover your entire head.</p><p>You pull your hood away, your hair looking like a mess and by then Mark <em>still </em>has his cheeks rosy from your words and you wonder, whether it really was too much to talk about with your boyfriend?</p><p>You have never been the one who gets easily embarrassed about sexual stuff—or about anything really, because you’re a pretty blunt person. It’s <em>his </em>job to get embarrassed about things—even the ones that came out from his own mouth. Mark can be so confident and so awkward at the same time that it doesn’t make sense but you find him to be cute that way.</p><p>“Mark.”</p><p>“If you’re going to talk about that dream again, I am going to yank my hair out of my head.”</p><p>“But—“</p><p>“And I’m going to yank <em>your </em>hair out of your head.”</p><p>“But then we’re both be bald.”</p><p>“That will be your fault.”</p><p>You huff, unconsciously pouting, before you finally let go and head back to your papers. You try to hold your concentration longer than a few minutes, but when you hear Mark going back to his guitar, humming a few notes here and there, you just give up because there’s no way you’re going to finish your thesis when your boyfriend is singing so <em>angelically </em>like that.</p><p>“New song?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Sounds nice.”</p><p>“Thanks. It still feels a bit weird on some parts though, but—” Mark stops talking when you walk on all fours toward him, pushing the guitar out of his hands and crawl onto his lap. “Babe?”</p><p>You sink your face against the crook of his neck, hands going down and circle their way around his back. “Ssshh,” you say, exhaling all of his scents and thanking whoever it is that invented his perfume because <em>goddamn, </em>Mark smells like cinnamon and chocolate and <em>everything </em>thatisgood in this world. “I’m out of battery. I need to re-charge.”</p><p>Mark spends two seconds in silence before he blurts out laughing, “What are you even saying?” He protests but doesn’t push you away. Instead, he rests his chin on your shoulder and cuddles you closer into his chest.</p><p>“You’re so warm,” he murmurs, almost lazily as if he’s a few seconds away from sleeping. You answer by placing a peck on his neck which makes him jolt a little in surprise but not breaking away. The silence between you two is comforting but the way Mark’s jeans are pressing against your bare thighs is not so you move around, trying to find the most perfect comfort zone on his lap—not knowing that it is becoming a new kind of torture for your boyfriend. It’s until you feel something growing underneath you that you begin to halt your movements.</p><p>“Mark—”</p><p>“I know, don’t say it—”</p><p>“You’re kinda… <em>hard</em>.”</p><p>“I said, don’t—” He lets out a whine, slamming his temple against your shoulder. “Look, I’m sorry, but you keep moving your butt and it feels like you’re not wearing any pants—“</p><p>“I <em>am </em>not wearing any pants.”</p><p>“<em>Fuck.” </em>Mark is not the kind of man who curses a lot—he only does it when he’s surprised or when he panics as he tries to process what he’s saying next, so the fact that he’s cursing <em>now</em> can mean he’s feeling one of those things or both or for a whole other reason.</p><p>“I mean,” you try to explain, “I’m not trying to seduce you or anything. It’s just your hoodie is way too big for me so I thought why bother? It’s not like we’re going somewhere. We’re just hanging out in my bedroom after all.”</p><p>“Oh my <em>God,”</em> Mark groans, throwing his head back as he leans against your bed. “Just give me some time to calm down.”</p><p>He <em>really </em>looks like he’s trying to will his boner to go away, what with the way he furrows his eyebrows and keeps his eyes tightly closed in concentration. Mark is too much of a gentleman to ask for your help but <em>you’re willing </em>so it’s more likehe’s giving one by providing the chance for you to ravage him.</p><p>Just gotta play it cool, though.</p><p>And by cool, you mean pressing your palm against his groin when he’s not expecting.</p><p>“Yo, what!” He jumps like a scared little cat and honestly, he’s too cute—so utterly cute—that you begin to lean up and kiss him square on the lips. <em>“Mmph!” </em>His protest is muffled by your mouth and the way you entangle your fingers around the back of his hair, pulling him close. He stiffens for a few seconds before he finally lets go, melting into the kiss and you know the next one is going to be your <em>favourite part.</em></p><p>See, the thing with Mark is, he acts shy and awkward most of the time but when the moment is right, he can be passionate about things. Like when he’s playing music. Or writing his raps during his free time.</p><p>Or kissing you.</p><p>“Mark—“ It’s funny that you initiated this, but it’s you who’s losing your breath. Mark takes your hand when you’re about to fall off his lap, pulling you with enough force to make you tumble back to his chest, and slips his tongue inside your mouth as you gasp. His kisses are deep and fast, almost like he’s in a hurry to kiss you before you disappear from his life forever. You never peg yourself to act like a thirteen-year-old virgin—because you’re certainly not—but when Mark kisses you like this, you feel like you’re acting <em>worse </em>than that.</p><p>You can feel one of his hands on your thigh, holding you tight to the point it feels like it’s going to bruise. You push his denim jacket off his shoulders when he kisses your neck, lips hovering hot against your sensitive spot, making you say his name in the tone you’ve never made before.</p><p>“You,” Mark whispers between kisses, “have got,” another kiss, his teeth nibbling against your bottom lip, “to stop teasing me like this.” Another slip of his tongue, meeting yours for a split second before he breaks off the kiss. “Or else, I’ll go crazy. I <em>am </em>going crazy because of you.”</p><p>“Then why are you stopping?” You ask, breathing a little bit heavier. You cup one of his cheeks, leaning up to kiss him again but he pulls away, hesitating. “Mark?”</p><p>“I don’t think we should go any further.”</p><p>“You don’t?” You grind your hips against him again and his lips part slightly, trying his best to contain his moan. “Even though you’re <em>this</em> excited?”</p><p>“That—” He hisses, gripping hips with both hands to keep you still. “Stop it, you’re not being fair.”</p><p>“I’m being honest,” you correct him. “What’s wrong? What’s stopping you? What did I do wrong?”</p><p>You can tell he feels sorry for making you feel like this and he’s really contemplating whether he should tell you the real reason or not, so you squeeze his hand and smile at him. “Let me know, please?”</p><p>He licks his bottom lip nervously before he sighs. “It’s dumb but…” He looks away, trying to hide his face but you see how the tips of his ears are turning scarlet. “You’re Haechan’s ex and I know he can be a little bit, umm… <em>wild.</em>”</p><p>It takes a few seconds for you to process. “So you’re afraid that you’re going to be worse than him in bed?”</p><p>“No, I mean—“ He seems frustrated and ashamed, like a child being caught with his hand in a cookie jar. “Okay, yes, I guess you’re right. I am. But it’s more than that.”</p><p>The way he fidgets and rambles is just <em>so </em>cute—everything about him is cute—but you never say that out loud because he <em>hates </em>being called cute. He always says you’re cuter than him. “Mark, I don’t care about what happened with me and Haechan. I’m dating <em>you </em>now, aren’t I? You’re being jealous over nothing.”</p><p>The way he pouts indicates that he doesn’t particularly agree with your words, but he lets it go. “Well, there’s also one other thing.”</p><p>“What thing?”</p><p>“You know,” he shrugs, hiding his doe eyes behind his bangs. “<em>That </em>thing.”</p><p>“What? What is it? What thing?” Then you open your mouth in realisation. “Oh Mark, baby, I don’t care if you have a small dick. Size doesn’t matter.”</p><p>“<em>What—NO!”</em> He shrieks, face in flame. “I mean, not that I regularly measure it and compare it to other guys—I have never even seen another guy’s dick—not that I want to—”</p><p>“Mark, you’re rambling again.”</p><p>“I DON’T HAVE A SMALL DICK!” He exclaims and you hold back a laugh when he adds in a murmur, “<em>At least I don’t think I have.”</em></p><p>“Okay, my bad.” You massage his shoulders, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Then what is it?”</p><p>Another silence, then. “I’ve never done this before.”</p><p>“What, sex?”</p><p>He weakly nods, teeth nibbling on his bottom lip worriedly, and you feel something warm growing inside your chest. The fact that he’s never been with anyone suddenly becomes the highlight of your life, and if you can be his first then you can just die from happiness by the end of the day.</p><p>But it’s because of this very reason, that you have to become very careful.</p><p>“Okay, then, let’s just take it slow?” You offer and he seems conflicted about his own expression. Part of him looks relieved but the other part of him looks disappointed.</p><p>“Why do I feel like we have our roles in reverse?” He asks, somewhat annoyedly, as you settle yourself better in his lap. You let out a small chuckle in response. “Also, your brother is downstairs.”</p><p>“He has his AirPods on.”</p><p>“How do you know he has his AirPods on?”</p><p>“Johnny <em>always </em>has his AirPods on.”</p><p>“But—”</p><p>“<em>Mark</em>,” you whisper, closing your eyes as the tip of your nose touching his, “Don’t you want me?”</p><p>He lets out a shaky breath, having a hard time trying not to stare at your lips that are becoming even more irresistible by the second. “You don’t even know how much I want you.”</p><p>“Then just let go. Just give in, Mark.” You press your temple against his and within this close proximity, his scent is <em>intoxicatingly </em>amazing.</p><p>“Okay,” he finally whispers back, but since he still sounds somewhat unsure, you add, “Look, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. Just stop me whenever it gets too uncomfortable for you, okay?”</p><p>“Okay now we <em>seriously </em>have our roles in reverse. Should I be handing my dick to you now? I think you’ll make better use of it.”</p><p>“That sounds like a great idea only if it’s possib—” The rest of your words is replaced with a yelp when Mark suddenly pushes you down onto your back, your head hitting the floor too hard and now <em>he’s </em>yelping.</p><p>“Oh, shit—fuck!” He scrambles with his words and with his hands, trying to help you get up and check on your condition at the same time. “I’m <em>so </em>sorry! I was trying to be sexy and be in control or something like that—shit, it just looks <em>way</em> better in my head—I—<em>Why are you laughing?!</em>“</p><p>You can’t help it. This is all too ridiculous. Almost refreshing for you, even. You never compared Mark with your ex-boyfriend Haechan before because Mark is way, <em>way </em>better than he’s ever going to be but you remember that with Haechan, things <em>were </em>wild. So wild, that you constantly got caught off guard, not having enough time to focus on your feelings or your own pleasure and just fulfilling his, and his only. With Mark, you feel like you have so much more to give. So much more new experience. So much laughter. So much fun.</p><p>“Oh my God, Mark,” you cackle, wiping away some tears from your eyes, “I love you, but if you don’t stop acting so cute, I am going to ravish you myself.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>You blink in realisation. “Sorry, that was too much.”</p><p>“No, not that.” He knits his eyebrows together. “You love me?”</p><p>You feel your heart drops to your stomach. You can’t believe you just said that. It’s not like you didn’t mean it—<em>of</em> <em>course, </em>you mean it. But you’ve tried your best to wait so you can hear him say it first. You <em>are </em>a woman, after all. And to think that you just said it randomly at times like this? After your boyfriend knocked your head against the floor for trying to be sexy? Not really the way you imagined it to be, that’s for sure.</p><p>“Umm,” you fondle the hem of your—his—hoodie. Great, now <em>you’re </em>nervous<em>. </em>Suddenly<em>, </em>those papers you have scattered on your table don’t look so bad. <em>“</em>You’re right, I <em>do </em>have some assignments to do. I’ll just get back to—“</p><p>Mark grabs your hand, holding you right on your spot. “You love me?”</p><p>You can practically hear your own heartbeat in your ears and it’s really <em>fast. </em>“My thesis—”</p><p>“Babe, I need to hear you say it.” The way his doe eyes are holding yours seems unfamiliar. His gaze is firm, unfaltering, and you give in because what else can you do? It’s really how you feel after all.</p><p>“I love you, Mark.” You can hear the shyness in your own voice and you curse inwardly because <em>where did your confidence go? You were acting so superior before!</em></p><p>Mark doesn’t say a word and when you feel like dying is a better option than standing awkwardly in front of your attractive boyfriend after your stupid unplanned confession, he suddenly lifts your entire body with both hands and lays you down on the bed.</p><p>“Mark—“</p><p>He kisses you like he needs it to keep himself alive, and you find yourself closing your eyes shut, moulding your lips against his until you can taste the mint flavour from the candy he ate earlier. He tangles his fingers around your locks, the other hand cupping your cheek to angle your face better so he can kiss you deeper. You can’t help but to arch yourself closer to him, chest meeting chest, hips against hips. You can no longer tell whether the moans come from you or him but everything feels hot and going so fast, like you’re free-falling from a skyscraper.</p><p>Perhaps he feels the same way because he gradually slows his pace until he finally parts his lips from you. One look at your disheveled face and messy lipstick smeared from your mouth to your cheek, and he goes back to staring at your lips again with want. He mutters, “<em>Fuck” </em>under his breath, almost inaudibly before he crashes his lips against yours, but slower this time, just carefully savouringevery taste and breathing in every scent of you.</p><p>Mark pulls away only to grab the hem of his white Van Halen shirt, pulling it over his head and tosses it somewhere without care and you have to remind yourself to breathe because <em>fuck me, that was hot. </em>His hair’s a mess—even messier than before and you think that’s just as hot as he can get but then he pushes his hair back with his hand, forehead showing as it glistens with sweat, and says, “I’m not going to hold back anymore.”</p><p>
  <em>Again, fuck me, that was hot.</em>
</p><p>Mark seems brave enough to finally just let go and consume you in the way he has been wanting to for a while, but you can tell he’s also nervous from the way he fumbles every now and then, especially when he tries to unhook your bra without looking. He has no problem tossing your—his—hoodie away, but when he keeps his eyes closed as he kisses you, it takes a good minute for him to finally unclasp your bra.</p><p>He’s momentarily in awe when your naked breasts come into view but he wastes no more time trying to please you with both his hands and his mouth.</p><p>It’s good. <em>He’s </em>good. If he’s <em>this </em>good his first time, you can’t <em>wait </em>to see what happens next. You’re too busy losing yourself in his touch until you feel his length pressing against your thigh. By instinct, you press it harder against his groin, eliciting a surprised moan from him.</p><p>
  <em>Goddamn, why is he so hot?</em>
</p><p>That voice of his; you want to hear it more and more, so you bring his mouth back to yours, align your hips with his and unzip his jeans. Mark is swearing again, but the more he swears, the breathier he sounds and when you rub him over his underwear, his moans are <em>delicious.</em></p><p>“Feels good?” You ask and he kinds of scowl at you because <em>what do you think?</em></p><p>Surprisingly enough, he pushes your hand away from his crotch and when you raise an eyebrow asking why, he kisses your body lower and lower until his face is hovering above your panties.</p><p>“Mark,” you call out, “Don’t try to be sexy and pull my underwear down with your teeth or something. You haven’t reached that level yet.”</p><p>He responds by tickling you hard on the sides of your stomach and you almost kick him in the face from laughing beyond control.</p><p>After all joking has receded, Mark swallows his breath nervously and kisses you on the inside part of your thigh, slowly creeping down to your heat, mouthing against it from over the fabric.</p><p>“Want me to take it off?” He asks in the <em>cockiest </em>way you’ve ever seen him do and you wonder who’s the virgin one in this relationship.</p><p>“Depends. Do <em>you </em>want to have blue balls for the rest of your life?”</p><p>“I’m kidding, geez,” he says, chuckling a bit but it sounds more nervous and he probably <em>is </em>nervous since he’s never done anything like this before.</p><p>“Don’t worry, I’ll guide you,” you assure him and he looks like he wants to retort with something clever and snarky but he also kind of needs your guidance so he keeps quiet and just pulls your underwear down and tosses it away.</p><p>Mark knows how to use his tongue, he just doesn’t know <em>where </em>he should use his tongue. That’s when your guidance comes handy, you suppose.</p><p>“A little bit lower, Mark.”</p><p>“Here?”</p><p>“Lower.”</p><p>“Umm… here?”</p><p>“<em>Whoa, too low!” </em>You spring up from the bed, pressing your thighs together so he won’t lick anywhere weird. “Okay, Mark, there’s my vagina and there’s my ass. Some girls like to have their asses eaten, but not me.”</p><p>“Right,” he says awkwardly, cheeks burning bright. “Sorry.”</p><p>“No, don’t be. Umm…” It’s so awkward and you both kind of just sit on the bed not knowing what to do so you ask, a bit unconvincingly, “Try again?”</p><p>To your surprise, Mark nods rather excitedly, like a child eager to learn and that’s cute and all but in this context? Not so much.</p><p>But wow, Mark learns <em>fast.</em></p><p>It’s been more than a year since someone has touched you like this and it feels like it’s your first time again, so you’re quickly reduced to a whimpering mess when Mark kisses and flicks his tongue against your private part. And when he sucks at a <em>particular </em>spot, you’re practically screaming his name.</p><p>“S-sorry, did I hurt you?” He asks, pulling away, eyes shaking in concern.</p><p>“God, <em>no</em>.” You’re <em>this </em>close to shoving his face back to your crotch. “Don’t stop, Mark, please.”</p><p>“But if you’re in pain—“</p><p>“<em>Mark,” </em>you can practically feel your patience throwing itself out of the window. “If I’m in pain, I will kick you in the face or tell you to stop, so if I don’t do any of that, <em>don’t fucking stop.”</em></p><p>You know you sound a bit desperate. Or a lot. But is there any girl out there who’s not going to sound <em>this </em>desperate when Mark Lee is using his mouth to utter nonsense when he just did a <em>perfectly </em>good job over <em>there?</em></p><p>Lucky for you, Mark actually listens and <em>doesn’t </em>stop going even if you’re mewling his name, to the point of almost sobbing even, and continues to please you until your thighs begin to tremble in delight and you fall back to the bed with the biggest content sigh you’ve ever made in your entire life.</p><p>“How was it?” He asks with a little bit of teasing in his tone because he can <em>see </em>how good it was. You can tell he wants to hear you praise him.</p><p>“You, Mark Lee,” you breathe out, looking at him with stars in your eyes. “Are the most talented person in the world and I’m not just talking about your talent in music, but in <em>everything</em>.”</p><p>He chuckles. “That good?”</p><p>You pull him down by his belt, until his chest pressing against yours again. “<em>That </em>good,” you agree before you crash your mouth against his in the most consuming way you’ve ever kissed someone.</p><p>Mark eventually has his pants off and you switch positions when he’s finally stark naked. He’s so shy about the whole thing that he barely keeps eye contact with you, and he stutters <em>hard, </em>asking where the condom is when you begin to position yourself on top of him. You shake your head, telling him that you don’t have one and add, “Just tell me when you’re about to come so you can pull out just in time.”</p><p>Mark opens and closes his mouth like a fish gasping for air, probably about to protest but can’t come up with any better solution. Besides, he basically just throws everything out of the door when you sit down on his lap, your walls stretching against his length in one swift motion and he throws his head back.</p><p><em>“Fuck!”</em> He breathes heavily, looking at you specifically at the part where you both are connected. “You’re wet—how are you so wet—and warm—<em>oh my God—I’m—“</em></p><p><em>“</em>You’re rambling again.” It’s the third time you said that to him in the last hour, which must have been some kind of a record. Not important right now, though. You’re focusing yourself to adapt to his length—because he’s <em>nowhere </em>small, it turns out—and slide up and down when it stings less.</p><p>“Okay, shit, wait—“ Mark sinks his nails on the sides of your hips, making you wince a little and he pulls back, muttering “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but I feel like I’m going crazy. Can we stop?”</p><p>“Too much?”</p><p>“Too much.”</p><p>You tease him by clenching your walls around him and he just <em>groans </em>loudly in the sexiest way you’ve ever heard a man groan. “Babe, <em>please</em>,” he begs, eyes half-lidded in lust. “You’re not being fair. It’s my first time.”</p><p>“So?” You can’t help it. You’re having so much fun. You rock your hips against him again and he just loses it. Mark grabs you by the waist, bringing you back down to the bed and muffle your laughter with his mouth.</p><p>“Since you can’t stop teasing me about it,” Mark says, spreading your legs apart by instinct and seeing him between your thighs is just the <em>sexiest </em>thing you’ve ever witnessed. “I’ll take control from here.”</p><p>Mark moves rather awkwardly, and sloppily from time to time but he <em>is </em>hitting the right spot. He’s too enthusiastic though, which doesn’t make him last long. He comes undone soon after, dripping liquid onto your stomach before your own orgasm can hit you but he doesn’t spend his time lying beside you on the bed. Instead, he quickly inserts one finger into you, then two, pumping in and out as he analyses your expression—making sure that he’s doing right and not hurting you in the process. You clutch your fingers around his bicep, urging him to go faster with your mouth parting halfway in pleasure and he smiles proudly at the sight. Smirking, he brings his mouth back to suck on whatever that is that makes you feel like the world is ending and you don’t <em>fucking care because of Mark, oh yes, Mark!</em></p><p>When you’re done, he pulls his fingers out and licks the tips. He’s probably not trying to be sexy but more out of curiosity or just trying to imitate some dudes in those porn videos he watches from time to time, but goddamn, <em>please do that again.</em></p><p>“Sorry for making such a mess,” he says, pushing the bangs out of your eyes, “I’ll go grab some tissues to clean you up—”</p><p>You bring him down to kiss him, senselessly, longingly, and languidly. Just enjoying the moment as you come down from your high. “You know,” you say, “I don’t know if I’m a good teacher, or you’re just one hell of a student, but <em>that was amazing</em>.”</p><p>Mark blushes but he grins like a child. “Am I better than Haechan?”</p><p>“I hate you for bringing him up because he no longer exists in my life but I bet my ass he’s never going to be as good as you. Our first time is ten times better than my <em>last </em>time with him.”</p><p>“You’re being honest?”</p><p>“Ten thousand percent.”</p><p>Mark plops down on the bed next to you, punching the air in a winning pose. “Hell yes!”</p><p>“Mark?”</p><p>“Yeah, babe?”</p><p>“Let’s take a shower together. You see, practice makes perfect.”</p><p>As he’s busy trying to wash the blush away from his face, there’s a loud knocking sound coming from the other side of your door.</p><p>“Have you two bunnies done fucking each other’s brains out yet? I need to take my AirPods you borrowed.”</p><p>Mark stares at you in horror when you finally remember that you, indeed, borrowed Johnny’s AirPods this morning.</p><p>You begin to sweat. “<em>Oops</em>?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Drunk Antics</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After being caught having sex with your previously virgin boyfriend, you thought Mark and your brother Johnny would never get along. That is until your boy comes back to your room in the drunkest state he’s ever been after a short trip to the bar with his Johnny-hyung, asking you to try new tricks he’s learned from the Master of Sex.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“You <em>forgot </em>that you <em>borrowed </em>his AirPods?!” Your boyfriend is shrieking in whispers, doe eyes shaking in fear and horror as he kneels on your bed, trying to shamelessly hog every inch of your blanket to cover his body.</p><p class="p1">Mark is so drowning in panic that he doesn’t even notice that you, in fact, are still naked. “I was going to use them before to work on my assignment,” you try to reason, “but then you came so I kind of forgot about them.”</p><p class="p1">“<em>Kind of?!” </em>He screeches. “I agreed to have sex with you because I thought you were <em>sure </em>that he had his AirPods on!”</p><p class="p1">You stare at him flatly. “You’re making me feel like I just took advantage of you.”</p><p class="p1">“I <em>am </em>feeling like you just took advantage of me!”</p><p class="p1">“You just lost your virginity, I think you have to thank me instead.”</p><p class="p1">“<em>Babe</em>,” Mark grabs both of your shoulders, staring with wide eyes as if there’s a ghost lurking behind your back but he’s trying his best to calm you down (though he’s pretty much shitting his own pants). “You should’ve remembered that you took his AirPods. He <em>heard </em>us.”</p><p class="p1">“<em>Mark,” </em>you imitate his tone mockingly, taking a hold of his shoulders in the same manner. “It would’ve been <em>super </em>weird if I thought about my brother when I have my hot boyfriend rubbing his dick against my ass.”</p><p class="p1">Distracted, a sheepish smile forms on his face. “You think I’m hot?” But he shakes himself awake on the next second, going back to yanking out his hair with both hands. “No, wait—what am I going to do—your brother <em>heard us having sex—</em>I can’t<em>—</em>”</p><p class="p1">“I heard my brother having sex all the time.” You shrug nonchalantly. “Sometimes even when he’s alone in his room, which is gross.”</p><p class="p1">“THAT’S NOT THE POINT—”</p><p class="p1">“Guys?” Johnny’s knocks on the door are becoming more impatient. “I swear to God, if you two go back to sucking each other off, I’m going to throw Mark under the bus and run him over myself.“</p><p class="p1">Mark’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “<em>Did you hear that?!”</em></p><p class="p1">You roll your eyes in response, reaching out to the table beside your bed and snatch Johnny’s AirPods from inside the drawer. “Here,” you hand it over to Mark.</p><p class="p1">Your boyfriend reacts as if you just handed him a bowl of hot lava and he fumbles with his hands, shoving the AirPods back to you with so much horror in his eyes. “Why are you giving me this—no—<em>no</em>—”</p><p class="p1">“Mark, honey.” You gently smile, pushing the thing back in the most motherly way you can manage. “I’m covered in cum—<em>your cum</em>, in case you forgot—and you’re hogging all the blanket—“</p><p class="p1">“<em>No—”</em></p><p class="p1"><em>“</em>Also, I’m sweaty and gross. Can you please be a man for once and let me take my shower? You can still join me afterward.”</p><p class="p1">“<em>Babe!” </em>You can tell he’s about to throw up out of fear but he’s just so cute, you can’t help but keep teasing him about it. “This is not fair—he’s going to kill me! And what do you mean <em>‘for once’</em>, am I—“</p><p class="p1">“Okay, guys, any day now.” Your brother, Johnny, calls again from the other side of the door. “If one of you don’t come out and hand me back my AirPods in the next ten seconds, I am literally going to call the police.”</p><p class="p1">Mark nearly jumps out of his own skin. “<em>What?!”</em></p><p class="p1">“Oh, shut up, Johnny,” you shout back, mouthing calming words to your boyfriend who looks like he’s seconds away from fainting. “You’re not going to do that and we both know it!”</p><p class="p1">“But I <em>am </em>going to call our Mom.”</p><p class="p1">“<em>That </em>he might do,” you say, wincing a little at Mark. “Okay, I’m going to take a shower.” You lean forward to give him a peck on his cheek. “Good luck, babe.” And you sprint off to the bathroom inside your room, all while holding out your best not to cackle loudly.</p><p class="p1">“Where are you going—<em>Baby, get back here!” </em>You can hear Mark protesting in whispers, but you just send him flying kisses and a wink, and shut the bathroom door behind you.</p><p class="p1">Mark’s soul is leaving his body, he can feel it. And that’s okay, because Johnny is going to kill him anyway. But when the older man <em>really </em>starts to count to ten, Mark jumps out of the bed, tripping approximately three times as he tries his best to dress himself back in his own clothes while muttering the words “shit” and “fuck” repetitively under his breath.</p><p class="p1">When he’s sure he looks <em>less </em>fucked than before, Mark opens the door, breathing hard as if he just did the worst workout in his life.</p><p class="p1">“H-hey,” Mark starts, attempting to throw his best <em>look-at-me-I’m-a-good-boy-who-did-not-just-fuck-your-sister-when-you-were-around</em> smile at the other man. “How’s it going, man?” His voice breaks in the middle of his line and he winces as he tries to calculate the least painful death options he can commit.</p><p class="p1">Johnny unenthusiastically gazes back at him. “What are you doing?”</p><p class="p1">“I’m… <em>smiling </em>at you?”</p><p class="p1">“Don’t. You look like you’re about to rape me.”</p><p class="p1">“S-sorry, I’m—“ Mark’s eyes start searching everywhere but Johnny’s eyes as he feels his own feet turning into jelly. “I guess I’m nervous.”</p><p class="p1">“Nervous? Why?” Johnny places his hands inside the pocket of his jeans, looking <em>way </em>too intimidating for your boyfriend to handle. “Because you just had sex with my sister while I’m in the house?”</p><p class="p1">Mark’s jaw is almost dislocating from his face from how wide he opens his mouth. “I—I, umm—“ He clears his throat, wiping a bead of sweat off his forehead. “S-so, you really heard us, huh?” He tries to laugh it off, which he soon regrets from the way Johnny’s eyes are throwing daggers at him.</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, well,” Johnny shrugs, “My ears don’t have on-and-off buttons that I can switch whenever I want. I <em>used </em>to have my AirPods to do that job, but she borrowed them to help her concentrate while doing her assignment.” He gives out a sly grin, almost mockingly. “Little did I know that her assignment was you.”</p><p class="p1">If he didn’t feel like dying before, Mark is sure as hell feeling it now. “I’m <em>so </em>sorry—I swear, she told me you had them—I also thought you were downstairs—“</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, I <em>do</em> go upstairs from time to time, you know, ‘cause my room is over there,” he dully replies, nudging his head to the end of the corridor, where his room is located next to yours.</p><p class="p1">Mark’s entire body shudders in horror. “Dude, I didn’t know—I thought that was a storage room—oh God—”</p><p class="p1">“Don’t call me dude. I’m not your dude.”</p><p class="p1">“Fuck—sorry, you’re right—I’m—“ He’s hyperventilating by this point. “Is there any place in this house where I can kill myself?”</p><p class="p1">“You can try jumping off my balcony,” Johnny answers in the most casual way that Mark begins to question whether he’s really being serious about it.</p><p class="p1">“G-great, I’ll put that in my options,” is all Mark has to say. “Thanks.”</p><p class="p1">“Sure thing, bud.” Johnny yawns, offering one hand to the other man which Mark stupidly enough stares in confusion before he takes a hold of it and gives it a sweaty handshake. Johnny switches his gaze from Mark’s face to their hands before he brings back to stare at him straight in the eyes and says, “My AirPods, you idiot.”</p><p class="p1">“FUCK—“ Mark is so embarrassed that he stumbles on his feet, knocks the side of his head against the door frame, and does a silent scream when the pain jolts to his entire body.</p><p class="p1">“Man, I wish I had my phone ready to record all of that,” Johnny comments.</p><p class="p1">Mark is too much in pain to recognize his mumbling. He fumbles with the AirPods in his hand, shoving them to Johnny’s chest. “Shit, I don’t know why I thought you wanted a handshake—here—oh my God—I’m so sorry—“</p><p class="p1">Even Johnny seems a little bit amused at his antics by this point. “Thanks,” he says, tucking the AirPods inside the pocket of his jeans. “You have some time to spare?”</p><p class="p1">Mark gulps. “Are you going to kill me?”</p><p class="p1">“Not until the end of the day.” Johnny says, and Mark laughs a little bit too loud and a little bit too hard and by the way Johnny smiles, he <em>still </em>can’t tell whether he’s joking or not. “Come on, let’s go have a drink.”</p><p class="p1">“Umm I-I don’t think I should—“</p><p class="p1">“Not a request, Mark.”</p><p class="p1">“Yes sir, on my way!” And he knocks himself once again against the door frame as he rushes forward to follow his steps.</p><p class="p1">“Also, Mark?”</p><p class="p1">“Yes?”</p><p class="p1">“Your shirt’s inside out.”</p><p class="p2">***</p><p class="p1">“Mark?” Your voice is answered by the silence of your room. You’re feeling a little bit dizzy from the hot shower you just took. You took a bit long in the bathroom, waiting for Mark to come and join you with a cute pout on his lips and tears in his eyes (that’s how you imagined him to be anyway) but your boyfriend, it turns out, was not even in your room. You put on your clothes—a knitted navy blue sweater with sleeves a little bit too long for your arms and a simple pair of jeans—and head downstairs, searching your house but nobody comes to answer. Sighing, you go back to your room and try to call his cellphone but immediately feel disappointed when his ringtone comes from under the bed.</p><p class="p1">“Great, he forgot his cellphone,” you mutter to yourself, picking his phone up and throws it on the bed. “Did he really run home without telling me?” The image of Mark panicking and running away from your house like his life depends on it sure does look like it’s something he does out of shame. But judging by how great your previous sex activity was, you figure that he’s probably going to go back to you sooner or later. He also has his phone to retrieve anyway.</p><p class="p1">So it’s time for you to <em>actually </em>get some work done. There’s no other reason for you to run away from your goddamn thesis and the day is getting late. After having some ramyun for dinner, you <em>finally </em>begin working on your assignment.</p><p class="p1">It’s hard to start, but a few minutes after you get your head to it, you start losing track of time. You’re finally done with your work (most of it anyway), already closing your laptop and place it back on your backpack, when your door abruptly swings open, showing your boyfriend’s face with the biggest grin on his face.</p><p class="p1">“Baby, I’m home,” he says in a sing-song voice, a bit slurry and a little high pitched. Before you can say anything—too busy trying to figure out how <em>high </em>he is judging from the dopey look on his face—Mark is giggling and walks closer to you. “You know,” he says, placing a hand on your desk and leaning close enough for you to know that he <em>reeks </em>of alcohol. “I just had the greatest day of my life today. And it’s all <em>because</em>. <em>of</em>. <em>you</em>.” He pokes your nose repetitively between every word.</p><p class="p1">“Mark—“</p><p class="p1">“Are you hungry? I’m hungry. Do you want some pancakes, because man, I’d <em>love </em>some pancakes—“</p><p class="p1">“What, are you drunk?” The answer is obvious but you ask anyway.</p><p class="p1">“No, I’m Mark.” He grins, chuckling at his lousy joke.</p><p class="p1">“You are <em>so </em>drunk.”</p><p class="p1">“And you,” he snickers, pinching one of your cheeks, “are so cute~”</p><p class="p1">You swat his hand away. “Where have you been?”</p><p class="p1">“I went to a bar with your brother,” he giggles again, playfully massaging your shoulders. “He’s so <em>coooool~”</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>“What?!”</em>
</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, he’s, like, so tall and, like, so <em>fit.” </em>You can’t believe you’re hearing your boyfriend <em>fangirling </em>over your brother. “And he knows a lot of stuff—like, <em>a lot </em>a lot.”</p><p class="p1">You certainly have to kick Johnny in the shins after this. “How—why—I thought you were—“</p><p class="p1">“Babe, you’re rambling.”</p><p class="p1">You can’t believe you’re turning into him, so you clear your throat and try again. “How drunk are you exactly?”</p><p class="p1">“Drunk enough to know that <em>this,” </em>he stops to pick up the fishbowl you placed on the bedside table—where Marky the Goldfish is sleeping with its eyes open—and lifts it up to his face, “water cannot be drunk but drunk enough to contemplate about doing it.”</p><p class="p1">You make a face. “Leave Marky alone.”</p><p class="p1">“Why did you name it after me?”</p><p class="p1">“Because it’s dumb. Like you.”</p><p class="p1">“Huh, can’t really argue with that.” He snorts, placing the fishbowl back to the table and tripping on his feet as he does so—spilling some water from the side but thank <em>God, </em>your fish is safe and alive, though probably <em>also </em>a little bit drunk because of that sudden… <em>turbulence</em>.</p><p class="p1">“Oops,” he giggles, “Sorry, Marky.” He doesn’t look regretful in the slightest. You stare at him in silence, unconsciously judging him with all you have and usually, he would start becoming nervous and fumbling with his words but now, he just looks at you like you’re the best thing that ever happened to him and rushes forward.</p><p class="p1">“Man, I love you.” He tackles you into a hug, almost sending you toppling down your chair, “I love you so much. Have I said that today?”</p><p class="p1">This is certainly <em>not </em>the way you imagined your first confession to be like, especially coming from Mark who’s usually shy and too childish to admit his feelings. “No, you haven’t,” you retort. “Ever.”</p><p class="p1">“What, really?” His eyes are perfectly round and wide, actually surprised about it. “Shit, I’m sorry. Come here.” He pulls you up to your feet, cradling you into his arms, hands flailing all over your body before they finally rest on your waist. “I can’t believe we had sex and I didn’t even tell you that. I’m so sorry.” He leans back, putting some space between you so he can stare directly into your eyes. “I love you. I’ve always been for a while. I’m so in love with you that I can barely concentrate whenever you’re around.”</p><p class="p1">You wish he wasn’t drunk out of his mind because those words, those lines, could have been so romantic but even though he <em>looks </em>romantic, you’re not sure whether he’s being one hundred percent conscious about it.</p><p class="p1">“Okay, let’s talk about this again when you’re sober.” You tap his cheek with one hand and pinch it when he whines. “Have you even taken a shower yet?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, this morning.” He smiles dreamily at you, kissing the inside of your palm. You can’t believe how bold and greasy he becomes when he’s drunk. “And yesterday. And the day <em>before</em> that. And—”</p><p class="p1">“Okaaaay.” You shut him up by placing your hand above his mouth, which he licks like a little puppy, earning a surprised yelp from you. <em>“Mark!”</em></p><p class="p1"><em>“Babe!” </em>He imitates before throwing himself to the bed, laughing at your face. “Come here, join me in my bed.”</p><p class="p1">“That’s <em>my </em>bed.”</p><p class="p1">“Isn’t that what I said?”</p><p class="p1">You exhale loudly, rolling your eyes. “I don’t think you can go home at this state. Your mom would kill me.”</p><p class="p1">“But I’m already home,” he says, crawling toward you until he kneels at the edge of the bed, face to face with you. “Home is wherever the heart is, right? And my heart is with you.”</p><p class="p1">You curse yourself inwardly for having your heart flutter at his embarrassing line and you hate yourself even more when he notices you’re blushing.</p><p class="p1">“Whatever. Just take a shower and get some sleep.” You walk back to your desk, flipping around the pages of your textbook. “I still have two chapters to read.”</p><p class="p1">You can hear your boyfriend huffing behind you, but try your best to ignore him. It’s an impossible feat, it turns out, when Mark sneaks up behind you, circling his arms around your shoulders and peppers few kisses down the side of your neck.</p><p class="p1">“Mark—“</p><p class="p1">“You smell so good.” He inhales deeply, burying his nose in the strands of your hair. Standing up, you turn around to face him so you can protest and push him away but the look on his face makes you freeze.</p><p class="p1">“You’re so cute,” he says, running his hand up from the curve of your neck to cup your cheek. “And You’re so pretty. And hot. You’re so…” He begins staring at your lips, eyes unfocused. “<em>Hot</em>.”</p><p class="p1">You can tell it’s coming but when he kisses you, almost hungrily, it feels like he’s snatching your breath away. “Mark, wait—”</p><p class="p1">“Not waiting,” he murmurs against your lips, pulling your hand over his shoulder so you’re forced to lean your entire weight against his chest. Mark’s calloused hands travel down your body, wrapping both against the back of your thighs and lifts them up so you can wrap your legs around his waist. You follow his lead though still not entirely convinced that you should continue this.</p><p class="p1">Mark kicks your sliding chair away with one leg and places you down on your desk. He roughly pushes all your papers and textbooks to the end of the table, making enough space where you can sit facing him, with your legs tangling around his waist.</p><p class="p1">You have spent a decent amount of time kissing Mark over the months you’ve been dating, but only now that you have the chance to kiss him when he’s drunk and you’re aware just <em>how much you’ve been missing.</em></p><p class="p1">The drunk version of Mark Lee unexpectedly kisses much more slowly compared to the sober version of Mark Lee, and if you thought fast, passionate kisses were hot, then these slow, deep kisses are sending <em>actual shivers </em>down your spine.</p><p class="p1">Mark has his right hand cupping your cheek, rubbing comforting circles on your skin with his thumb, while his other one is around your waist, slipping his fingers underneath the hem of your sweater. He angles your head to the side, and his parting lips fit like a perfect puzzle piece with yours. There’s a shy trace of his tongue along your bottom lip, as he nibbles at it slowly and he lets out this small <em>moan </em>as he does it as if it’s something he’s been wanting to do for years and just finally able to do it now.</p><p class="p1">He tastes like alcohol and you’re not particularly fond of it but the more he kisses you, the more you think it doesn’t matter because he still somewhat tastes like how Mark usually does and you always <em>love </em>the way he tastes on your tongue.</p><p class="p1">He drags your chin down with his thumb, tasting you a little bit deeper and as he presses his hips against yours, his breathing becomes ragged and you just realize that you probably have a kink for all of this stuff because holy mother of God, <em>this is just so hot.</em></p><p class="p1"><em>“Mark,”</em> you sigh as he moves away to kiss your ear, warm lips pressing against your earlobe. He hums in a low, breathy voice that you’ve never heard him do and it makes your stomach flip. “Mark, you’re drunk.” It’s more like a reminder to yourself because you know that as the sober one, you have to put a stop to this but what can you do when he has his tongue tracing against your skin and his soft moans vibrating through your ears?</p><p class="p1">“Baby,” he whispers, pulling away a little so you can see his eyes and <em>fuck, </em>it’s the biggest mistake you’ve made today—bigger than forgetting that you borrowed Johnny’s AirPods. His eyes are half-lidded, utterly filled with lust and the way he licks his bottom lip as he stares at you has you breathless. He leans closer, as if he’s about to kiss you again, and whispers, “Don’t you want me?”</p><p class="p1">You remember that you said the same thing earlier to him that day and it makes you think how karma is a <em>fucking bitch. Y</em>ou secretly wonder whether you have the same effect on him because Mark is being so irresistible right now and he successfully makes you throw all of your reasoning to the back of your head.</p><p class="p1">“Fuck this,” you claim under your breath, pulling him down to you by the neck and crush your mouth together. You can feel your boyfriend smiling into the kiss, and the sounds of your wet kisses make your heartbeat go crazy.</p><p class="p1">“Take off your shirt,” you command, already grabbing the end of his shirt and struggling as you try to pull it over his head. Mark helps, chuckling a little bit and when it’s off, he has his lips against your neck again. His teeth are prickling against your skin, sucking it until it’s bruised and you have to remind yourself to be angry about it later—because you have classes tomorrow and what if anyone sees that nasty hickey on your neck?—but right now, you just want him to mark you over and over again.</p><p class="p1">Mark starts to unbutton your jeans, pulling the zipper down and you use your free hand and legs to shake your pants off. It’s not easy, and you almost kick your boyfriend in the face while doing so, but he laughs it off and kisses you again. You can tell how hard he is when he presses himself against you, and you’re eager to put him out of his misery but he suddenly pulls away, saying, “Wait, let me do this first,” and he kneels on the floor, his face right between your legs.</p><p class="p1">You can feel your breath hitched when he runs his fingers on the inside part of your thighs, his lips follow soon after. He slips his fingers around the edge of your panties and pulls them down. You suddenly feel so exposed to the way he’s looking at you so you pull the end of your sweater down, trying to cover your thighs as much as you can.</p><p class="p1">“Why are you so shy?” Mark says, taking your hand away and pressing his lips against your palm. His eyes never leave yours and they twinkle in the most teasing way. “You weren’t shy about this before.”</p><p class="p1">“Stop looking at it too much,” you reply nervously, can’t help but to blush about it. “I feel weird.”</p><p class="p1">Mark chuckles, airily and soft. “Sorry, I just didn’t have the chance to really see you before,” he explains, one hand unconsciously rubbing your thigh, trying to calm you down. “Can I eat you out?”</p><p class="p1">Sober Mark will definitely <em>not </em>say anything like this—hell, sober Mark will probably faint just <em>thinking</em> about saying stuff like this—which is why you’re becoming even more nervous and excited at the same time.</p><p class="p1">“Baby?” Mark calls, smiling softly. “I kind of asked you a question.”</p><p class="p1"><em>Fuck me. </em>“Yes,” you breathe out, and you realize he was just messing with you before but who the fuck cares right now.</p><p class="p1">“Yes what?”</p><p class="p1">“Yes, Mark, <em>please.</em>” You can hear yourself whining and you hate yourself for it, but desperate times call for desperate measures.<em> “Please eat me out, Mark</em>.”</p><p class="p1">He smiles in the <em>sexiest </em>way that you don’t think it’s possible—like seriously, who is <em>this </em>guy?—biting his lower lip as he does so and if he keeps doing that, you figure he doesn’t even have to eat you out to make you come undone.</p><p class="p1">He presses his lips near your heat, whispering, “Good girl,” before he places his mouth on the exact spot you want him to be.</p><p class="p1">“<em>Fuck</em>,” you hiss, biting your own lip as you see his head move between your legs. Mark has his eyes closed, repeating what he has learned earlier that day and does the thing you like the most. When he locks his eyes with yours, you almost choke out a sob.</p><p class="p1">“<em>Mark,” </em>you try to keep your voice down in whispers but Mark is <em>so good </em>that it feels much easier to work on your goddamn stupid thesis rather than holding back your moan.</p><p class="p1">“<em>Mmm.</em>” The way he moans at the back of his throat as if he’s having the best time of his life makes you weak and you press your thighs together without knowing. Mark places his hands on each side of your thighs and spreads your legs wide apart, allowing himself to be even closer and making you feel way more exposed. You have to grip your desk with both hands to keep yourself from falling.</p><p class="p1">“Okay, no, stop—“ You find yourself breathing hard, pushing him back by the shoulder and he raises a questioning eyebrow.</p><p class="p1">“Was it not good?” He asks and you curse inwardly.</p><p class="p1">“Mark,” You grab him by the silver necklace he has around his neck, pulling him up so you’re face-to-face. “I’m about to come, what do you think?”</p><p class="p1">“Really?” He looks impressed with himself. “Then, why did you stop me?”</p><p class="p1">You tangle your legs around his waist, bringing him close and grind your hips against his. “You know why.”</p><p class="p1">Mark’s thin lips part in a silent moan, whispering, “<em>Fuck,” </em>under his breath but he tries to keep his composure. “No, I don’t,” he says, teasing you though he doesn’t look like he’s able to hold himself back long. “Babe, I literally just lost my virginity a few hours ago. You have to tell me what you want.”</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Mark.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Babe.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">You scowl at him and scowl harder when he has this shit-eating grin on his face, and if your eyes could throw daggers, he’d be in so much pain right now. But Mark is making a sound between a giggle and a snort, which is rather cute but you still kick him in the stomach for playing with you at a time like this. “Mark, <em>come on</em>! I want you to fuck me!”</p><p class="p1">He takes a hold of your thigh, leaning down to place kisses under your ear. “And where do you want me to fuck you, exactly?” He whispers, purposely making an <em>mmm </em>sound as he sucks on your earlobe. “Should we move to the bed?”</p><p class="p1">“No, <em>fuck, </em>just do it here.” You unbuckle his belt, pushing his jeans and boxer down to around his thighs, low enough for you to stroke his member and position it toward your entrance. “Mark, just put your cock inside me.”</p><p class="p1">It seems like he’s beginning to lose his mind over how desperate you are actually begging him. You guide him toward you, making sure he’s not doing anything wrong and when he pushes inside, you just have to bite on his shoulder to muffle your moan.</p><p class="p1">“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans, eyes closing shut as he grips on your thighs, nails sinking into the skin almost painfully. “I couldn’t remember whether you were you this tight before but—oh <em>God—</em>”</p><p class="p1">His movements are still a bit sloppy, but soon he finds the pace you both like and maintains it. When he sees you throwing your head back in pleasure, he grins to himself and lifts your sweater up to your chest. You help him take it off, unclasping your bra with so much effort as he continues pounding into you.</p><p class="p1">He’s so consumed by the sight of your breasts bouncing up and down matching his thrusts until he can’t take it anymore. “Babe, can I go a little bit rough?”</p><p class="p1">“Wha—<em>fuck!” </em>It’s your luck that you don’t slam your head against the wall from the sudden force Mark is thrusting into you. He has his mouth on your breast, moving his hips much quicker than before,and moaning your name several times under his breath. The desk is clearly making a sound as it bumps against the wall but you don’t care—your parents are out of town and Johnny already heard you two before anyway. You can just apologize to him tomorrow.</p><p class="p1">Mark suddenly changes position, lifting one of your legs up in the air while keeping the other down so he can slide in deeper. “Johnny-<em>hyung</em> told me to try this,” he says with a smirk on his face. He’s breathing quite hard, just like you. He kisses the side of your ankle once before he lays your leg on his shoulder. “Tell me if it’s too much.”</p><p class="p1">When he moves his hips again, with so much force that you have to hold on to the table, you’re pretty much just screaming his name. Mark’s bangs are sticking to his skin as beads of sweat start to form on his temple, and he pushes his hair back with one hand, chanting your name like a prayer and recording every expression you make in his mind.</p><p class="p1">You can handle his movements but you’re sure the skin around your waist is going to bruise tomorrow from how hard he’s holding you. You’re getting distracted by the way the muscles on his abs flex with every movement that it catches you off guard when he suddenly says, “I love you,” between his soft moans. You shudder at his words, leaning forward to wrap your fingers around his arm, begging for support. “Mark, you’re not fair—“ The rest of your sentence dies when he hits the spot that makes you see stars.</p><p class="p1">It’s a little bit embarrassing for you, the much more experienced one, to come undone before he does but Mark <em>doesn’t</em> stop, even if you beg him to. “Hold on to me,” he says, smashing his lips against yours and adding, “Just a little bit more, baby,<em>” </em>between kisses.</p><p class="p1">When he’s finished, your back and legs are aching so much that he has to carry you onto the bed. Mark shakes his pants off before he slides under the blanket next to you. He asks whether you want to shower and you shake your head. “Tomorrow. I can barely stand right now, to be honest,” you comment which earns a light chuckle from him.</p><p class="p1">You both sigh out loud, staring at the ceiling and trying the process <em>what the fuck </em>just happened.</p><p class="p1">“Mark?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, babe?”</p><p class="p1">“I know it’s bad for your health, but do you think you can get drunk more often?”</p><p class="p1">He giggles at that, turning to his side so he can face you. He looks so sleepy and you let him caress your face with his fingers with the little energy he has left. “Thank you for today,” he says, smiling dreamily. He leans closer to press your temples together, rubbing the tip of his nose to yours in a childish manner before he kisses you softly. He drifts off to sleep soon after.</p><p class="p1">When you wake up the next morning, still naked and gross from the night before, you realize that yes, small purplish bruises are forming on the skin of your thighs, waist and for sure, your neck. You look to your right, seeing your boyfriend still sleeping soundly with his stomach pressed against your bed and his lips slightly parted. You don’t have the heart to wake him up, but your parents can come home anytime soon and they <em>cannot </em>catch the two of you looking like this.</p><p class="p1">“Mark,” you softly call, placing a hand on his cheek and rubbing his skin with your thumb. “Mark, wake up.”</p><p class="p1">He groans, turning his face away from you. You tap his shoulder, run a hand through his dark locks and still nothing. Huffing, you gather the very little energy you have—without coffee in the morning, you’re pretty much nothing—to turn his body around and crawl on top of him.</p><p class="p1">“Wha—” Mark’s eyes are half-open but don’t stay so for long when he notices how you’re basically straddling his bare abs with <em>your naked body. </em>He panics so much that he begins to flail all over the place and end up falling from the bed and knocking you off his lap in the process.</p><p class="p1">You break into a train of laughter, pulling some blanket to cover your body. “Guess sober Mark is back.”</p><p class="p1">“Why are you naked?!” He shrieks, head peeping out from under the bed, and he <em>shrieks </em>louder when he notices that he’s also in his birthday suit. “Why am <em>I </em>naked?!”</p><p class="p1">“You seriously don’t remember?”</p><p class="p1">Mark takes a few seconds to himself, trying to process everything that his blurry memories can give and his jaw falls slack on his face when he realizes that, “We had sex!”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, we did. Twice.” You giggle, nudging your head toward your desk which is literally in chaos—papers scattered everywhere, books falling to the floor, pens unaligned.</p><p class="p1">Mark follows your gaze and gapes harder. “Shit, yeah, on that desk—I remember—wait, but how?! Why—” He looks like he’s physically hurting trying to remember every detail, and probably that’s his hangover talking.</p><p class="p1">“Want some aspirin?”</p><p class="p1">He pouts rather cutely. “Yes, please.” When you step down from the bed, leaving your blanket behind, Mark blushes and immediately turns his face away, unconsciously letting out a girly yelp as he does so.</p><p class="p1">“Umm, babe?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah?”</p><p class="p1">“You’re naked.”</p><p class="p1">You stifle down a laugh. “Yes, I noticed. And so are you.”</p><p class="p1">Mark covers his bottom half with a pillow, face flushed. “C-can you put some clothes on?”</p><p class="p1">You <em>were </em>planning to, but seeing him react like this makes you re-think your decision. “Mark, we literally had sex twice yesterday.”</p><p class="p1">“I know, don’t say it!” He hides his face behind his palm. “It’s still embarrassing for me.”</p><p class="p1">“You certainly weren’t embarrassed last night,” you tease, “You even asked whether you could eat me out—”</p><p class="p1">“GAH!” He has both hands covering his ears, turning his entire body around to hide his face but the way his ears are going red is contradicting his action.</p><p class="p1">“Mark, look at me.”</p><p class="p1">“No way in hell!”</p><p class="p1">Smirking to yourself, you slowly walk to his spot, not covering even an inch of yourself. When you call him again, softer this time, Mark makes a mistake and throws you a glance. He’s no longer able to take his gaze off you after that.</p><p class="p1">You spread your legs, sitting on the pillow he has on his lap and wrapping both legs around his waist. Pressing your chest to his, you lean close to his ear. “Wanna go for another round?”</p><p class="p1">Mark gulps.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi there! Thanks for reading my story. I got carried away while writing so it ended up being this long, sorry about that but I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know if you still want to read more :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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